On a recent episode of The Tonight Show, Jimmy Fallon pulled Julia Roberts away from the comfort of the guest chair to play a game called "Face Balls." From the name on down to the objective of seeing a celebrity's face smashed in slow motion via clear beach ball, it was a thoroughly stupid thing to subject an esteemed A-list actor to. But Roberts was totally game. She mimed Jane Fonda moves upon being handed the ball. She made a funny 50 Shades of Grey joke. She pretended to be hurt after Fallon knocked her with a particularly forceful chest pass. They laughed. And by the end of the segment, we'd been given a far more genuine illustration of what Julia Roberts is like than could have ever been achieved through one of the traditional sit-down interviews that have defined the host-guest relationship on late-night television for the past 50 years. We saw Roberts's personality in action, reacting to an unfamiliar and unpredictable set of circumstances, rather than going through the motions of another pre-plotted interview. We even had a better idea of what it might be like to have a beer with Julia Roberts, the human. It was the late-night equivalent of "show, don't tell."

But "Face Balls" is just one of countless recurring games, sketches, and activities that Fallon wields with guests in particularly fascinating and delightful ways. Just in the past month, he's played flip cup with a supermodel and rolled around on gymnastics mats with, well, another supermodel. He's challenged Will Arnett to a friendly blindfolded piñata-kicking contest, and raced kayaks around the studio with Cameron Diaz. He played Pictionary with Megan Fox, who admitted she couldn't remember what a frog looks like, though she gave a game attempt anyway. He huffed helium with Morgan Freeman. People tuned in — over the last week of July, Fallon's Nielsen rating among 18- to 49-year-olds was higher than that of Letterman and Kimmelcombined — but, more significantly, people clicked and streamed and shared on the Internet the next day. Considering that the average age of the late-night television viewer is comfortably over 50, it's clear that the Internet's role as a signifier of late-night success is only going to grow as we move ahead into the this new era of late night, the landscape of which will finally have solidified once Stephen Colbert takes over for Letterman next year.

Despite the success of Fallon's variety-like approach to late night, critics have been reluctant to deem him a worthy host. That's because he's obsequious and indiscriminate in his praise of his guests. In her article on "late-night blahs,"New Yorker TV critic Emily Nussbaum wrote, "Fallon's an enthusiast, which sounds good, until you see him spray the same gush on everything." For critics, Fallon is too friendly and bubbly and optimistic to be an out-and-out comedian. He's the anxious approval-seeker you pat on the head and tell he's doing a good job before turning your attention back to the adults. Also worth noting is that he might have the most punchable face in show business, for reasons not unrelated to his in-your-face enthusiasm. It's hard to knock such positivity, but Fallon's runs directly counter to a certain kind of detached, self-assured smugness and razor-sharp wit that we associate with great interviewers. Many have found this problematic, and view Fallon's carousel games and sketches as a crutch, a hollow circus of bells and whistles designed to obscure his shortcomings and bait clicks the next morning.

But what exactly is the duty of the modern late-night host? What should we expect from late-night television in 2014? "Viral" or "shareable" content is a must, of course. Kimmel recognized this even before Fallon moved to 11:30, but unlike Fallon, Kimmel's bits occur outside the studio and usually involve some sort of deception or hoax. They're considered worthwhile where Fallon's often aren't, though, because by fooling either unsuspecting people on the street or the viewer, he's exposing something about Americans, in a fashion similar to reality TV: Basically, we're all dopes.

All Fallon is trying to do is have a good time and be entertaining, and he hinges his potentially viral segments on what these shows are marketed around night-to-night in the first place: the celebrity guests. Because the bits are often so shamelessly ridiculous, it's hard to realize what's being accomplished and how effective even the silliest of games are. Without necessarily seeming to, they reveal a new side of a famous person whose job it is to keep those sides as masked as possible. They tell us more about what they're like, as a friend, an acquaintance, an employer, an employee, and yes, a Pictionary partner. Is this not a worthy pursuit of a late-night host?

When guests come on Fallon, there's not an intimidation factor like there might be on Letterman or even Kimmel or Conan. They know they have nothing to worry about and that Fallon is not going to challenge them in anything more consequential than a grade-school game. They can relax, they can have a good time, they can be themselves (as much as possible in front of a camera, anyway). It all seems too clean, easy, and unabashedly fun, so we find fault. Fallon gives the guest a platform to show their colors that isn't bound by a formulaic interview full of rehearsed anecdotes, a feature of late night that has calcified over the years to the point where drawing something truly original and spontaneous out of it is a rarity, if not a miracle. It's a microcosm of the late-night format itself, which is in dire need of some sort of change, the least of which would be a host who's female or of color. And if we don't get that, at least we have Fallon finding creative ways to push late night into the YouTube era.

Despite the momentum away from the traditional interview, however, the one person who may give it renewed life is Stephen Colbert. He's the apotheosis of the usual late-night host. He has the quickest wit in entertainment, he's wildly intelligent, and he's a fantastic interviewer, able to toggle back and forth between earnestness and sarcasm with ease. When it was announced that he would be taking over for Letterman, many wondered if he'd be able to carry a show without the scaffolding of his over-the-top Comedy Central satirical persona, but once his version of the Late Show is off and running, I think we'll look back on his Colbert Report caricature as a restriction of his true talent. Personally, I can't wait to watch clips of Colbert interviewing guests because he's going to be so mind-blowingly good at it. But I'm also excited to see how the antithetical but equally talented Fallon is able to refine his own approach in the years to come. Together — along with Kimmel and Conan and even Seth Meyers and James Corden — they'll comprise opposing poles of a truly dynamic era of late-night television. It took over five years of jostling since Conan's ill-fated Tonight Show tenure started in 2009, but it seems as if the pieces have fallen almost perfectly. Instead of dismissing Fallon's excitement, we should try to match it, because the future is bright and there's nothing wrong with fun and games.